


This Christmas Thing

by brisingrdraumar



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Psychic Bond, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brisingrdraumar/pseuds/brisingrdraumar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim can get used to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Christmas Thing

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for the Star Trek slash holiday card exchange 2011 (http://xmas-xchange.livejournal.com/).

Jim has never put too much stock into Christmas. Growing up with a step-father who hated you and a mother who, when she was even dirtside, only saw the ghost of your father in your face sort of did that to a kid. It’s never been a huge deal though, what did he care? Christmas is a commercialized and industrialized excuse for frivolity and torture by way of retail, traffic and _heinous_ music. Seriously, did EVERYWHERE have to blast ancient Earth songs about holly and decking the halls with it? Because honestly, when he can’t even be on a different _planet_ and not hear it, all he wants to _deck_ are faces.  And not with holly.

Even with all of that being said, Jim can’t help but feel festive and a bit _gay_ , himself (ha, pun in _tended_ )when he looks into Spock’s eyes as they’re making love during shore-leave on Earth in December.  They’re in San Francisco at a hotel a few miles from the Academy. It’s cold outside and you can see merry lights on homes and businesses alike past the fog and frost on the room’s windows.  Everyone everywhere is in the thick of the holiday season, and this year Jim doesn’t even mind.

He looks up at Spock, poised above him, hips thrusting a slow and deep grind into Jim, and grabs one of the Vulcan’s hands, entwining their fingers and stroking them together. Jim can’t stay coherent for long with this hard, yet tender, rhythm as Spock moves slowly and powerfully—his mind being systematically torn apart with every stroke of cock against his prostate and every brush of thick curls against his sensitive opening, but he does take a moment to admire them in the mirror on the hotel’s closet door. Their flushed bodies pressed together, Jim’s sweat slicking them and causing Spock’s hand to slide a bit on his hip, his own pupils blown wide and the rhythmic bunching of Spock’s thigh and ass muscles.  Jim’s skin is flushed red at the sensitive places—cock, face, hands, just around his nipples—and Spock’s is a deep emerald.  Even though he isn’t one to buy into the whole Christmas thing, he can’t help but smile, thinking that this twining of red and green looks happier and feels more like home than any plastic Christmas tree Frank ever made them put up. 

He looks back into Spock’s brown eyes and he sees them soften, knowing that his lover caught that stray thought through their bond, and he smiles, bring his unoccupied hand up to tug Spock down. Kissing and sucking at Spock’s lips in time to their thrusts, he lets go, thinking that maybe, just _maybe_ there might be something to this Christmas thing. After all, it has a _killer_ color scheme.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [my Tumblr](http://aconitebite.tumblr.com) if you so desire (I'm not gonna lie...it's mostly slash with the occasional cute animal and gay porn .gif).


End file.
